Posted 2018-09-22T21:38:00Z

Outpatient

It finally happened: Monday morning I was deemed medically stable enough for discharge from the inpatient section of Shepherd after just better than seven weeks. Just prior to discharge I had a graduation ceremony in the gym, during which music chosen by me (Everybody Wants to Rule the World) was played, and then faded to background while I was feted by my therapists (occupational, physical and recreational) for my various accomplishments, and festooned with such honors as "Most likely to drop the F-bomb during therapy", "Rule Breaker", and, my favorite, "Most likely to be seen with loafers in therapy" (Thanks, Craig). Naturally, there were no dry eyes (or Depends) following my acceptance speech and unsolicited words of advice to those still in therapy. Having decided to pursue outpatient rehab here as well, we (i.e. Nancy) moved all our belongings and medical supplies to our new home in an apartment adjacent to the main facility provided by Shepherd, and settled in for our first night together since the mishap with no backup. It was just the two of us with no one to help with the various transfers, bathroom activities, shopping, food preparation, making the bed, doing laundry, etcetera. No big deal for me, but a huge burden suddenly dropped into the lap of Nancy, and one to which she has adapted amazingly, and for which I continue to be grateful (let's just say I owe her bigly).

Rather than going home and taking daily therapy nearby, we decided that it made more sense for me to engage in more intensive rehab here, an area where Shepherd shines. My first day was taken up by meeting with the various team members and listing my goals for rehab (return to work, learn to drive with hand controls, improve proficiency of transfers to where I can safely do them independently, operate a hand bike, to name a few). The following day is when the rubber hit the road, and I spent an hour or more each doing individualized PT, OT, strengthening exercises, and endurance training, all with the aim of helping me meet my goals by the time I roll out of here. And so it has been everyday since then such that by the time I slowly make my way back to our apartment at the end of the day I feel like a Twizzler that's been left out in the sun all day. But I do believe it's paying off, and we've had no second thoughts about this decision. I'll be meeting with my team next week to hear how long they think it will take for me to meet my goals, and will keep you posted.

Meanwhile, another milestone today: I transferred into the passenger seat of a car, and Nancy and I drove around the greater Atlanta area, running errands, touring neighborhoods, and getting lunch at a fabulous Ethiopian restaurant. It felt almost normal to be out and about, although it did confirm for me the impression that most people in public like to smile at people in wheelchairs, like, to an insane degree. We had to ask someone to get up from their chair and move it so we could exit the restaurant, and as soon as they saw that it was for someone in a wheelchair, they all smiled and moved as quickly as possible to accommodate me. Not that I'm complaining, since I like being smiled at, but I sometimes wonder whether it's because they feel sorry for me, or that the wheelchair makes them uncomfortable, or that it's just my raw, late-middle-age sex appeal. In any case, just an observation, one I'll perhaps explore in more detail in another missive.

George and Melissa Orlov, neighbors and close friends from Chautauqua, travelled from afar last weekend to visit us, and we had fun together over good food and drink. So nice for Chautauqua to come to us even if we can't quite yet make it back to Chautauqua. We were also the beneficiaries of a "food train" set up for us by Leslie Renjillian, who arranged for generous Atlanta-based Chautauquans to provide dinner for us twice a week for the duration of our stay here. We are so appreciative for the kindness of strangers and friends, and hope to be able to reciprocate next summer.

And finally, a huge thank you to Jim and Jimmy Kivlighan who have been caring for our dogs and cats, as well as bringing in the mail and looking after our Staunton home. So comforting to know our beloved pooches are getting the love and care they need, even if it isn't from us. As much as we miss our friends, we miss our animals more. Those of you who have ever had pets will understand this sentiment. The rest of you I hope will not take offense (but should strongly consider becoming a pet owner).

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Robert Kyler 35 Comments

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